


I Made This Heart So It Could Beat For You

by voidletch



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Human Outsider (Dishonored), Low Chaos Corvo Attano, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Dishonored (Video Game), Slow Burn, i'll update the tags as i go. there WILL be bed sharing at some point ;3c, there's gonna be a lot of flirting but corvo is oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2021-04-08
Packaged: 2021-04-19 18:44:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidletch/pseuds/voidletch
Summary: “With the empress safe and the empire rebuilding you’ve hardly had time for the adventures I know you for. Simple tasks and errands are all that occupy your time, little missions here and there. You’ve done nothing exciting, and yet you still excite me, hold my interest. I want to know what it is that’s exciting me. It’s been months since you’ve visited a shrine, you have not come to me, and so I have come to you. From the void I pulled together this body of real flesh and bone, borrowed from the whales still roaming.”The Outsider remains fascinated by Corvo, though he's been doing nothing to earn his interest. The Outsider wants to know what makes Corvo so special to him, so he builds himself a body and visits his dearest marked. Corvo, used to avoiding his own odd fascination with the god with distance between them, has a very interesting time.Edit: I've rewritten a good chunk of chapter 1! it doesn't change the plot much, but it does change the characters
Relationships: Corvo Attano/The Outsider (Dishonored)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 96





	1. Friendly Visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I've rewritten a good portion of this chapter. As I'm fleshing more of the story out, I'm realizing i want a lot more depth to the characters than i originally thought i did, so i've redone 90% of how i portrayed emily

The Outsider, omnipresent and incorporeal, unfathomable in his power, sat carefully perched on Corvo’s desk, legs crossed and waiting for the man to return to his quarters. Though every surface of the room is wiped clean each day, dust could be seen making its way through the air, caught on light filtered through an open window. The Outsider patiently watched the dust flow until finally, as the sunlight began to dim, his Corvo came sneaking through the window. Still crouched from his landing, the only sign the man saw the Outsider was a slight widening of the eyes, but he remained otherwise composed. The two sit in silence as Corvo’s eyes search the god before him.

“Dearest Corvo, what a pleasure.” The Outsider drawled, drawing the man from his staring. Corvo responded by straightening himself out, unsure as to what exactly stood before him. The first thing Corvo saw, the first thing he always sees, are his eyes. Where onyx pools sat, cold and endless in their depth, now a grayish green is surrounded by white. The edges of the man no longer blurred, and no longer did the void bleed through around him. There he sat, physically in this world. Some sort of trick. Corvo walks closer, stopping before him just as the visiting god uncrosses his legs.

“What is this?” He asks, straight to the point.

“This, Corvo, is me paying a visit to one of my marked. Is my presence so unwelcome?” As if he had to ask. It seems as though Corvo has lost the company of an empress, only to long for that of a heretical god. Even still, the physical body standing before him was a change he isn’t sure is welcome.

“You know the answer, and you know that didn’t answer what I asked.”

“With the empress safe and the empire rebuilding you’ve hardly had time for the adventures I know you for. Simple tasks and errands are all that occupy your time, little missions here and there. You’ve done nothing exciting, and yet you still excite me, hold my interest. I want to know what it is that’s exciting me. It’s been months since you’ve visited a shrine, you have not come to me, and so I have come to you. From the void I pulled together this body of real flesh and bone, borrowed from the whales still roaming.” The Outsider finished his speech with nothing more than a slight tilt of his head.

Corvo stood there for a few moments longer, ignoring the twining of his gut that always comes with the Outsider’s expressed interest. So the Outsider is looking to entertain himself, and has chosen to do so by making Corvo’s life difficult. There’s nothing new there.

“And how long will this visit be?” He asks, skeptical.

“I intend to find out what it is that keeps you in my thoughts, however long it may take.” Of course, this sends an odd feeling up his throat, as the Outsider’s praise usually does. Corvo could never turn down the god’s visits before, and it seems that still rings true. He knows it to be a bad idea, knows he needs to smooth out every wrinkle in this plan before he even considers it plausible, for his sake and for Emily’s. He’s a man of logic, a man with much to lose, and yet never could he deny the god his whims. Instead, he voices his worries, knowing the god will have an excuse for each one.

“The Abbey?”

“Already believes you to be a heretic. With all that belief, they remain hesitant to accuse someone in such a position as yourself. Accusing the royal protector of worshipping the Outsider? While it has merit, politically they’d be made fools.” The Outsider replies, at ease.

“And what of Emily? I can’t tell her the man who haunted her dreams has come to stay in the tower.”

“What you tell Emily of my presence is up to you. I could be the man who haunted her dreams, I could be a friend who aided you during hard times. Or you could tell her the truth. In her youth she has yet to uphold the views the Abbey would have hoped for.”

He considers the Outsider for a moment, pretending as though there’s a world in which he’d deny himself the god’s company. Without saying another word to the god-turned-man, Corvo closes his eyes for a moment, sighs, and begins putting away his things.

The Outsider stays put, taking that for what it is- acceptance. With nothing more to do than watch the man, the Outsider indulges, closely observing how carefully the other man moves through new eyes. Corvo, well aware he’s being watched, does his best to shrug off the stare, it sitting like a weight across his back. He’s grown familiar with the Outsider watching, ever present as he is, but he’s grown too used to the god doing so unseen. Unseen, Corvo has no stare to shrug off, no eyes to avoid once he turns back around. Here, now, he can those his eyes bore into the back of him, and there is no escape, not alone in this room together. As he ponders, he opens up his trunk to place his contraband inside.

Having him in the tower will be difficult for many reasons, but interacting with the god in this new way will prove to be its own unique challenge. Interactions in or surrounded by the void are manageable, with a clear distance between the two. His belly will still heat with the praise, blood rushing to his ears, but with that separation he can keep to himself his reaction. Corvo would rather the Outsider not know the effect he has on him, not when Corvo himself doesn’t understand the source of it. Assuming the god isn’t already all too aware.

“How should we cover up you being here?” He asks as he’s removing the bone charms from where they’re wrapped around his body. “The easiest and least questionable approach would be modifying the truth, saying you’re a friend from when everything went to hell.”

“I’d be honored for dunwall to consider me your friend. I just hope the Abbey doesn’t mind.” The Outsider jokes.

“Har har. I’ll get in touch with our seamstress and get you fitted for some different clothes. There’s little chance of her coming tonight, and I’d rather not risk someone recognizing you, which leaves our only option to be looking for some old clothes, I’m sure we have some stored somewhere. Maybe an extra uniform borrowed from tower staff, or…” Or, Corvo thinks, the Outsider could borrow his clothes until then. Something about the idea causes unease, so he rejects the idea and trails off. He places his sash of charms inside his trunk, waiting for the Outsider’s input.

“Or…?” The Outsider questions, never one to give Corvo a break.

“Or you could borrow my clothes for the night.” Corvo doesn’t elaborate further, hoping the Outsider will leave it there.

“It would go well with our story. You’re lending some shelter to an old friend in need, and my clothes and I were such a mess you got me decent before introducing me. Sparing me the shame and whatnot.” Of course the option Corvo would least prefer is the option the Outsider runs with. He never should have said anything, but it’s too late now. He sighs.

“There’s the closet, help yourself.” He says, giving the closet a lazy pointing to before dropping his arm. The Outsider does exactly that, no hesitation in his movements as he makes his way towards the closet. At least he’s confident in this choice, if Corvo isn’t. As the Outsider is picking his outfit for the night, Corvo removes the Heart from its spot in his breast pocket.

For a moment he sits there, simply staring at the Heart as it beats softly in his hands. When everything was at its worst, alone in his room at the Hounds Pit Pub, he’d use the Heart for the sole purpose of hearing Jessamine’s voice again. The only trace of her or Emily he had at the time. He’d sit for hours, squeezing it softly just to hear her whispers. Each time hurt more than the last, but it was all he had.

When Emily was returned to him, before she was taken away again, she had a sixth sense for when Corvo came back for the night. As soon as he settled into the room, the door would creak open and his little girl’s head would poke out. The nightmares she had kept her from resting, so she ordered Corvo to protect her as she slept. It was her way of asking to share his bed, to keep the night terrors at bay.

With her by his side, Corvo slept more than he had in months. He expected to sleep less, too focussed on keeping the dangers away from her, but instead he’d sleep soundly, the relief of having her safe next to him bringing out the exhaustion he barely kept at bay. Or as soundly as he could. While Corvo would wake with a start, drenched in sweat and tightly wound, Emily would wake screaming, a mess of flailing limbs until she grabbed hold of him. Even now, back in the tower, some nights Corvo will wake to a soft knock on the door, and a head poking through.

As if his thoughts had been known to her, a knock on the door shakes him from his thoughts.

“One moment!” He calls, before placing the heart in the trunk, closing and latching the lid. He looks up to find the Outsider, who’s fully dressed in his clothes, sat on Corvo’s bed as if he belongs. The sight stirs something in his chest, until mild panic courses through him.

“I suppose it’s time for your first introduction.” Corvo says, not looking forward to Emily’s reaction. He heads to the door and opens it, looking down on to find head of black hair that quickly launches itself towards him. Emily hugs him tightly, and he rests a hand on her head, the other hand shutting the door behind her.

“Emily, I’d like to introduce a friend of mine from…” He trailed off, still not sure how to address it with her. “He’ll be staying in the tower for some time.” At that, Emily pulls away and straightens up, ever the empress. On autopilot she turns to him and smiles, holding out a hand as she introduces herself.

“I’m empress Emily Kaldwin. Pleasure to meet you, Mister…?” Shit. They hadn’t come up with a name. They had come up with a story, but not a name. Of course.

“Pleasure to meet you too, empress, I’m-” The Outsider begins, caught just as off guard as Corvo. They’re saved from coming up with something from an outburst by Emily. All at once she loses her composure, stepping back towards Corvo and pointing at the Outsider.

“You- You’re the man from my dreams, you’re… you’re…” She struggles to find her words, her mask completely down.

“The Outsider?” The Outsider… helpfully provides. There’s a few moments of silence as none of them quite know what to do. The Outsider, not familiar with how humans interact at all, Corvo, not prepared for Emily to find out about this, and Emily, completely unsure as to how she should process this information.

“You’re the Outsider?” Emily asks, cautious but oddly fearless. Corvo had expected some kind of… something. Fear, disbelief, anger- but instead a careful kind of curiosity is all he can hear in her voice. He absolutely did not expect that, but given all she’s been through, and her natural inclination towards what an empress shouldn’t involve herself with, it’s not all too surprising.

“In the flesh. I made it myself.”

“You made it?”

“I’m simply the avatar of the void. Normally, I’d present myself as more of an illusion of sorts.”

“An allusion, like in my dreams? Do you float in the real world too?”

“Sometimes.” All the time. Not even in the void has Corvo seen the Outsider step foot on the ground. He’s wondered before if it takes more effort to float than it does to walk. As he thinks about the Outsider’s tendency to hover, he watches Emily relax a little, stepping away from Corvo’s side. He’s relieved in a way he didn’t quite expect. Considering what the Abbey would do to both of them should this get out, Corvo should be terrified. But instead, he’s oddly calmed by this acceptance..

“Corvo said you were a friend from after my mom’s death. You helped him rescue me?” Emily seems to know how to address it far better than Corvo does.

“In a way. Everything Corvo did was of his own accord, I simply gave him tools to aid in his endeavors.”

“The abbey makes you out to be some horrible, heretical god. Why would you help us?”

“The abbey makes me out to be many things. But I didn’t help you. I gave him my mark, and with it came powers he could use however he so chose. What he did was entirely of his own accord. I did not interfere.” This is the second lie in this conversation. There had been a few times where Corvo, caught off guard, had been nearly incapacitated. Hit over the head, only to slip into the void until he woke up in a safer alley. Falling from great heights, only to land once again in the void, the ground hard but him remaining unharmed. The Outsider had many convenient visits, enough for the thought of him caring to briefly cross Corvo’s mind. The thought is quickly replaced with the notion that “caring” is getting foolish with it.

“Thank you.” Emily says after a moment.

“Excuse me?” The Outsider says, completely taken aback. In all his years, he’s not sure he’s been thanked in such a manner.

“Thank you, for helping Corvo and keeping him safe.” She says, as though this is the simplest statement in the world.

“I… You’re welcome, empress.” Another moment of silence fell between the three of them, Emily seeming to have said all she had to say, and the two men left not knowing what there is they could add. Eventually, Corvo is the one to break the silence.

“We need to find you a room, and a name. Until then, it’s time Emily got to bed.” Corvo finally says. There are plenty of empty rooms in the tower, it’s just a matter of escorting him- useless, and just a formality, given that the Outsider knows not only the layout of the tower in the present, but the past and future as well. But it will do them well to let the tower staff see him as Corvo’s guest. There’s a room down the hall from Corvo’s own that’s recently been made free.

“Can I name him?” Emily asks sincerely. Corvo pauses for a moment, looking at the Outsider, who merely stares back, equally as caught off guard. The Outsider takes his lack of action for permission, and responds to Emily’s request.

“If that’s what you wish, I don’t mind.” He says.

“Then I dub you Savvel.”

“Savvel?”

“It’s a name I read, he’s from a tyvian book. He’s immune to the cold, since he’s never been warm in his life, but one day he touches another human and he feels how warm they are, and-”

“And, I think it’s time we all get some rest.” The Outsider cuts her off. This name of hers is all but far too fitting. He stands from where he’s sat on Corvo’s bed, caught off guard by the unfamiliar stiffness in his joints. “The name is wonderful, and I’ll wear it with pride. Thank you.”

“Emily, go get comfortable, I’ll show the Outsider to his room.” Corvo says.

At that, Emily begins crawling into his bed, pulling the covers up to her nose and curling into a ball, aiming for the sheets to warm as soon as possible to match her heat. As she does this, the Outsider makes his way to Corvo’s side.They leave the room together, the Outsider trailing behind Corvo the short distance to the nearest empty room. When they arrive at the door, they stand awkwardly for a moment, unsure as to what to do.

“This would be it.” Corvo states, somewhat redundant. He opens the door, ushering the Outsider in. The room is just as clean as any other room in the tower, yet the disuse is still evident in the stiffness of it all. It’s of a decent size, and a similar layout to Corvo’s own room. In the middle of the left wall sits a bed suitable for two, with a window sitting in the middle of the far wall, curtains drawn. In the nearest right corner is a wardrobe, for when the Outsider gets clothes of his own, however long he may need them.

“Thank you, Corvo.” The Outsider says simply. He moves towards the window, pulling the curtains closed. Corvo takes that as a dismissal, unsure what more needs to be said. He closes the door and makes his way back to his own room, where he finds Emily sat upright on his bed. Corvo can almost see the questions running through her head.

“Emily,” he starts, “is something on your mind?” A somewhat redundant statement. Of course, they needed to discuss this ordeal, but that doesn’t stop him wanting to put it off all the same. He’s not sure either of them were ready.

  
“So what the Abbey says is true… You worship The Outsider?” She asks, a little hesitant. Though in her young mind magic may not be the the evil adults have pushed it to be, she’s wise enough to know it still has a reputation for a reason.    
  
“I don’t worship him. I’ve never built a shrine, nor have I prayed for his visits. He comes and goes as he pleases, giving gifts and trinkets here and there.

“So you have his mark, you have… powers?” She’s a little afraid, he can tell. She’s right to be- They haven’t spoken of it, but he’d be a fool to believe she didn’t remember seeing those same powers used to assassinate her mother. Rather than speak, Corvo slowly unwraps his covered hand, watching her carefully as he does. She’s looking intensely as he reveals the mark, looking almost nauseous, but keeping herself together. Cautiously, she reaches her hands out for his, and he obliges. She chokes in a small breath, eying his hand up and down, and runs her fingers along the lines engraved into his skin. Eventually, Corvo speaks.   
  
“This is the mark he gave me. With it came powers, yes. But I don’t…” Use them as Daud did, he means to say, but can’t quite. “I only use the mark when I need it to keep you safe. I’m still the man you know, my morals remain the same.” He can’t think of a better way to comfort her, but his words seem to ease her worries slightly, he can see it in the way her shoulders sag. Emily seems to hesitate a little before she opens her mouth to speak.   
  
“Can.. Can I see one?” Her voice is steady, he can see her childlike curiosity taking effect. At least she isn’t afraid of him- Even with all his failings, the last thing he’d ever want was for Emily to feel unsafe with him at her side. Though having her know is a great danger to her, it’s far too late to take it back. A small demonstration wouldn’t hurt, if it helped to ease her worries.   
  
“One, and then it’s time for bed.” He can tell she’s tired; Once the shock wears off, she’ll be exhausted. She’ll need all the rest she can get after this. Emily sits back, watching intently. Her eyes keep flickering to his face, as if the man before her might transform before her eyes. He’s a little nervous, anxious as to how this will change the way she sees him, but he steps back all the same and clenches his hand. 

An icy-hot pulse shoots down his arm as the mark lights up, Emily Observing carefully. With one last glance at her, he steadies himself, and he blinks. Emily’s left staring at an empty space for a brief second before she whips her head around, eyes landing on Corvo across the room. A started laugh escapes her, a childlike wonder evident in her wide eyes   
  
“Corvo!” She exclaims, stunned. Corvo shushes her, kindly, trying not to cause a scene. It wouldn’t do for someone to walk in on him with the mark on display, least of all in front of the empress. Watching Emily relax, awed but feeling safer than before, Corvo feels a tension he didn’t notice leaving his body. 

“It’s time for bed, I believe.” He tells her gently. At the reminder, the time catches up with her, half a yawn escaping from mouth.    
  
“Corvo?”

“Hm?” He hums.   
  
“Can I stay here tonight?” She asks. He knows it’s pointless- if he says no, he’ll wake up to his door creaking open and an empress creeping across the room. He pretends he doesn’t notice her sneaking in, and she pretends she believes that. It helps them both, on harder nights, to feel safe. Tonight qualifies, and he’s grateful even after this revelation she feels safe with him.

“Just this once.” He says. There’s been far too many once’s for it to be anything but a formality. Emily hums in thanks, too tired for a real response. She wastes no time getting comfortable under the covers, as he gets up to turn the lights off. Once that’s done, he makes his way to the bed and positions himself laying flat on his back, leaving the arm closest to her out. Half asleep already, she turns and scooches towards him. She rests her head on his outstretched arm, curling into him. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out, her features softening, a soft snore sounding out here and there. Corvo stays awake a little while more, making sure her night terrors are far away before he, too, drifts off to sleep. 


	2. First Morning Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsiders first morning in the flesh has come, pushing Corvo closer to a nervous breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so. i really have no excuse, im mentally ill and a few days of not writing turned into a few months, but im back on track for realsies this time. i actually have a semi plan for the next few chapters and am writing up their outlines now
> 
> This is a shorter chapter than i'd like, but i figured i needed to post something sooner rather than wait another eight years

There’s only whispers of the sun kissing the horizon by the time Corvo wakes from his slumber, a softly snoring Emily clinging to his side. A softness to his features, he allows himself a moment of peace just to watch her in his arms. Moments like these bring him ease among the ever creeping threats to her life that come with her title of empress, despite every second he takes reveling in it allowing the threats to loom closer. The loss of a lover, daughter, empress, and the faith of an empire is enough to drive a man insane, and one must find sanity where he can. 

Reminded of insanity, Corvo jolts with the realization that it’s sleeping only rooms away from him. There is a heretical god who floats among the strings of the universe with his feet on the ground, in the flesh, sleeping as a guest in their tower. Perhaps his losses have already driven him past his brink. One can only hope such a close proximity doesn’t drive him even further.

His moment slightly soiled, Corvo takes one last look at the sleeping empress before he makes to start the day. Carefully, he slinks his arm out from where her head rests upon it and gently pries her arms off of his side. It’s only due to many nights of practice he manages this with barely a stir from Emily. He gets himself out of bed with a small grunt, his body resisting the end of a good rest, and stands to face his duties. First up on the list, clothes. 

As he makes his way to his wardrobe, a troubled sigh escapes him as he recalls the night before. Emily is now aware of The Outsider’s gifts to him, and the target on her head weighs heavily on him. More than just the gifts, the god they’re accused of worshipping has been made real to her, beyond the oily eyes that plagued her dreams.

She is eleven now, already putting the pieces together from the rumours and accusations thrown around. Forced to mature too soon, she’s learning the secrets of her empire, and Corvo supposes his are no exception. Still, he wishes it didn’t have to be this way, rushed by the visit of a god, his own sins now bearing down on the shoulders of a child. 

Corvo pauses his thoughts, closing his eyes and taking a moment to breathe. All this pondering must wait, for the same god occupying his worries needs to be handled. Opening his eyes, and changes into the appropriate attire to face the day. Going through the motions, his worries must be set aside and his focus must stay sharp. Dressed, with his mind cleared, he exits through the window and begins making this morning’s rounds about the tower. 

___________________________________

Once back in his chambers, satisfied with the tower’s security, Corvo is comfortable. The unease from the previous day’s events still nag at the corners of his mind, but the knowledge that the empress is safe eases him enough that he can clear his mind and begin forming the god’s visit to his favor. Sparing a glance at the slumbering empress, Corvo makes his way out the door and down the hall a few rooms, stopping when he reaches “Savvel’s” temporary chambers. He gently raps his knuckles on the door, not quite sure how to wake the god, should he dare. 

It’s only a moment before he hears shuffling, and as the door creaks open just enough for a head of messy black hair pops into his vision. The Outsider, now Savvel, looks like he just woke from his first nap in a millenia. Which, Corvo thinks, may not be incorrect. Rather than wonder if he even can sleep, Corvo is beat to conversation by the god in front of him. 

“Corvo.” Savvel says, ever one for elaborations. 

“Savvel,” he replies, stumbling over the name, “good morning. How did the night treat you?” Corvo is sure the pleasantries are lost to the Outsider, but the staff should be awake and roaming. Better to keep the ruse up and be safe.

“I had a wonderful night, thank you. How did you fare?” The Outsider replies, picking up on the idea. Though this manner of speech is uncomfortable for him, so unused to speaking on this level. 

“Decently, well enough to manage.”

“And the empress?”

“Sleeping still, I had planned to rouse her after we spoke. If I may?” Corvo gestures to the door, still held mostly closed. The Outsider bows his head before opening the door fully, stepping aside to allow the other man entry. Once inside, The Outsider takes a swift glance into the halls before closing the door. 

“There was a maid standing in the halls eavesdropping. She did a good job pretending to tidy, to her credit.” The Outsider helpfully informs. 

“I would find it in me to discourage that behaviour if it didn’t help to have everyone’s eyes and ears on watch. It works in our favor to be seen being friendly.” 

“Nosey staff works in your favor for most visitors, so long as gossip always reaches your ears. This time is different. I cannot wait to see how you mold their curiosity in your favor.” The Outsider muses. Corvo’s only response is a grunt, before he moves the conversation along. 

“We need a story. You’re a friend of mine from when I was recovering the throne, Tyvian in background. Somehow you reached trouble and came here, with something secret enough to not be spotted, which should be information selective enough we won’t have to share. Beyond that, I haven’t a clue.” Corvo really doesn’t know how they’re going to do this. He trusts The Outsider, as wild a thought that is, enough to believe the god wouldn’t jeopardize the empire. Whether it be favoritism or simply his supposed opposition to interfering, it’s anyone’s guess, but he wouldn’t throw Corvo into something impossible. Just something nearly impossible. 

“What more is there that needs elaboration?” The Outsider asks. It’s unlikely he doesn’t know; He wants Corvo to piece it together himself. 

“We need a title beyond just a name, a history detailed enough to hold itself together but with just enough gaps to be believable, and to get you some clothes.”

“Are you implying my current attire is unflattering?” The Outsider has a sense of humor, it seems, but the question unsettles Corvo in a way he can’t quite place. The Outsider is disheveled, in clothes far too broad for his frame, but Corvo can’t say the look is unflattering. No, somehow it’s quite the opposite. He chalks it up to gods being godly and leaves those thoughts behind. 

“The rumours that would ensue should you remain exclusively in my sleepwear would be rather… troublesome. Once we have a story put together I’ll send someone after the royal seamstress.” 

“I’ve already disposed of my original clothing, so we have no need to worry about them being discovered.” If the implications of the mentioned rumors had any effect on the god it didn’t show, for he didn’t miss a beat. The question of how the clothes vanished will be pondered later. For all Corvo cares, The Outsider spent the night eating them. Right now there are more pressing matters at hand.

“Good, that’s one detail taken care of. How did we meet, and why have we maintained contact?” 

“The easiest answers are the ones you already know, so long as you’re careful in how you frame them.” The Outsider answers, without really answering the question. This is nothing unusual. Corvo thinks on this for a few moments, having some difficulties as for how he’d begin to describe his relationship with The Outsider, if one could call it that. Stripped to the bones, they met when Corvo was at his lowest and The Outsider provided aid. 

A believable enough skeleton, one most would take at face value should they understand Corvo’s inherent secrecy. However, the splitting image of The Outsider may require specifics should the abbey be aware of his presence. Though looking at the body in front of him, there are certain inconsistencies in his looks. Now drowning in Corvo’s sleepwear, he looks… small, almost frail. There is still an infallible aura surrounding him, but his face looks tired and his frame seems younger. He stands regally, as though he’s untouchable, but he looks like almost any other street rat. He could hardly pass as someone to provide Corvo physical protection, but in a way The Outsider’s most valuable assistance was guidance. He was the only stable figure in Corvo’s life during those times, and what a thought that is. 

“Information.” Corvo figures, is the most diplomatic way to put it, “I’m not sure we could pass you off as one to brawl. It’d be hard to fabricate any ties to others, as you’re entirely unknown, but it’d be easy enough to pass you off as a fly on the wall.” 

“A valid story. No one would need to be privy to what information I carry, if it’s important enough to be of value to the royal protector.”

“As for how you ended up in the tower… Information can land you in some trouble, and high stakes means high amounts of secrecy. It wouldn’t be the first time an informant needed my intervention.” Sure, there are some holes in this story, but the title of royal protector turned spymaster comes with plenty of sketchy cover ups. The tower staff know better than to question him should he deny them the real story, and if the information isn’t to be trusted with the tower staff, they know it shouldn’t leave the tower either. 

“A solid plan, just suspicious enough to be your type of business. I cannot wait to see where this string of lies delivers us.” The Outsider says, as always, interested in his mischief. 

“As of now, it will take us to the seamstress. Stay in your room until she arrives… Please.” Corvo adds rather awkwardly, still unsure as to how to give a command to a god. As interesting as he may find it to be ordered about, he knows very little about what would anger The Outsider. And there’s a fine line between authenticity and pushing his luck. Thankfully, this time wasn’t the limit, and the godly guest nods as he retreats into his room, closing the door as Corvo turns to start the task at hand.


	3. Casual Convo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Corvo discuss their new guest. The young empress has questions Corvo can answer, and questions he can't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woahhhh look at that, it didnt take a whole year for me to update! crazy! 
> 
> I've edited the first chapter to write emily more how i envision her character. When i first wrote that chapter, i didn't think i'd get as invested into this fic as i did, and i want to flesh the characters out appropriately. The edits haven't changed the plot at all, but her characterization is very different than it was before

With the seamstress being sought after by a maid, it was time to wake the oversleeping empress. Though her morning schedule has some wriggle room, the poor girl is not one for mornings- It’s better for everyone involved that she has ample time to wake up. Swiftly, Corvo makes his way to Emily’s chambers, rapping his knuckles softly against the door. As per usual, Emily remains fast asleep, and Corvo takes it as an excuse to enter. There’s much they need to discuss, and no way to guarantee how the empress will feel now that she’s had time for yesterday’s shock to wear off.

Creeping the door open, Corvo slips inside and shuts the door. He makes his way over to the empress, looking impossibly small, a tiny mound in a massive bed. In sleep, she looks every bit her age, her features soft and without stress. The weight of the empire won’t bear down until she’s rubbed the sleep from her eyes; The weight of Corvo’s revelation will come after. He sits on the edge of the bed carefully, trying not to jostle her awake. 

“Empress,” he calls softly, and when she doesn’t so much as stir he tries again, “Empress… Emily.” Her nose scrunches at her name, but nothing more. Corvo reaches out to tuck a strand of hair from her face and makes to call her name once more, but at the slight touch she jerks back with a start, clawing her way to the other end of the bed. Corvo keeps his hand in the air, used to this reaction, but saddened by it all the same. It takes seconds of Emily’s wide eyes frantically searching before they land on Corvo, her breathing evening out as she sighs in relief. It goes unsaid that she’s sorry for still being scared, and it goes unsaid that Corvo’s sorry she ever had a reason to be scared. The two sit there for a moment, Emily still catching her breath, before she breaks the silence.

“I had the strangest dream last night, about the black eyed man. You were there too, with a mark on your… hand…” she trails off a moment, catching sight of his wrapped hand, still in the air. He sets it down at her scrutiny, waiting to see how she handles this. A few beats go by, before she begins again. “I didn’t dream, did I? He’s here...” 

“No, you did not. I’m…” He meant to say sorry, but there’s too many things he feels he should say. Emily settles herself back against the headboard, thinking back on it all.

“You know,” She begins, “There’s a lot of rumours of you. I know you know about them, but we’ve never talked about them. I don’t know if you know I’m aware of them.”

“I’ve always hoped not, but I know better than that.”

“I heard of all the ones about you selling your soul. I didn’t believe them for a second. But I guess even though I didn’t believe the rumors were true, on some level I had always made the connection. When I started dreaming of the black eyed man I would always wake up thinking of you, but I never thought of why. I guess… I guess hearing it so often, from every corner, the idea didn’t surprise me. I’m okay with the dark magic. I just wish you hadn’t sold your soul, I don’t want to see you go crazy like all the others.”

“I haven’t sold my soul, Emily. And I don’t practice any dark magic, nor do I worship The Outsider.” Corvo says it as gently as he can, trying to make this as easy as he can. Emily seems confused by his statement, however, and as always has questions. Her curiosity is one of the few things of her youth she retains.

“If he hasn’t taken your soul, what has he taken?” She asks, concerned but curious. Corvo thinks for a moment, realizing that he hasn’t taken.. Anything. Nothing.

“Well, he’s not taken anything, aside from the guest room.” Corvo tries to joke. Emily laughs a little.

“And your clothes.” She shoots back. That earns a chuckle from them both. Emily continues her questions, not done interrogating. “If he doesn’t take your soul, and he doesn’t take anything else, why do they all go insane?” It’s a good question, one Corvo’s spent many nights asking himself, desperate to avoid their fate. To this question, he has an answer, but he’s not sure he’ll have many more.

“Remember what I’ve taught you of power, what it does when you let your greed for it rule you?” Corvo starts. Emily nods in answer, having seen first hand the corruption power causes. “Power via strength and power via the supernatural aren’t much different. The Outsider- Savvel, we must remember Savvel,- gives powers most can only dream of.” Corvo pauses, thinking of where to go from here.

“I did think I dreamt them.” Emily interjects. Corvo spares her a glance and continues.

“Powers like that are addicting,” he thinks of the rush he feels each time he uses them, the chill of his mark shocking his system, “especially when those powers are beyond the realm of human. They weren’t made for us, we were never meant to have them. Our kind is known for testing our limits, and the marked especially push the boundaries.” 

“Does he… Punish them, for asking for too much?” She says thoughtfully. Corvo considers this for a moment, as he once believed the god did. 

“Not exactly. He isn’t as cruel as stories would lead you to believe.”

“Not exactly?” 

“He’s not cruel, no, but… It’s as though his presence itself is a taste of power they seek. When they lose themselves in their hunger for power, they seek the god himself to sate it, to beg him for more. This loses his inclination towards them as well. That alone is enough to drive many past the brink, it seems.” 

“But isn’t that what he wants? To be worshipped? Why seek out worshippers just to cast them aside once they begin?” Emily’s questioning has turned now entirely to curiosity, the intricacies of The Outsider much different than the stories she’s been fed. 

There’s a brief moment before Corvo can answer, having wondered this himself many times before, but finding his guess is as good as any. As strong as his curiosity in the god is, delving into the details of The Outsider was never necessary in bringing Emily to safety. Not once has it occurred to him to breach the boundaries between himself and the god. It’s not only unnecessary, but he feels it’d be inappropriate somehow. As such, the most he has to go on is the god’s expressed interest in his actions.

“I’m not sure. Maybe he’s curious as to what they’ll do. Something about them piques his interest, so he winds them up, watches them go. Waits to see what roads he’ll take now that he’s paved them infinite. It just so happens a lot of them take themselves directions he disapproves of.”

“What does he want, then?” Emily asks. 

“How do you mean?” Corvo asks in return, taken by surprise.

“Well, he must want something from them. If it’s possible to disappoint him, it’s possible to make him approve.” Emily states, as though it’s the easiest conclusion to reach. It’s one Corvo has never come to. He thinks about it, really thinks, and he doesn’t know. Granny Rags, he knows, sought The Outsider carnally. How mad that drove her, and how it drove The Outsider away. He knows Daud, is intimately aware of how he chose to play his cards. But he doesn’t know what happens if you play them right.

“I don’t know. All I know of is those who lost his favor, I don’t know much of those who haven’t.” 

“What about you? He hasn’t left you alone- what do you do that’s different?” Emily is perceptive, so much so for someone her age.

“I’m not sure. He’s not the most candid.” There’s a brief pause as Corvo thinks back to seeing The Outsider on his desk, and his reasoning for this unusual visit. The Outsider doesn’t know either. “I was actually worried at first, when he marked me. Of course it was terrifying for all the reasons you’d expect- being pulled into another world by a ghost. And then being branded in his name. I was afraid of what he wanted. I grew up hearing the same libel you did, of the dangers of dark magic and the insanity of the heretics. What they did, and who demanded their deeds. I thought he wanted me to shed blood, to become a lunatic from the stories. It was a relief when that wasn’t true. But if I'm honest, I think I caught him by surprise when I shed no blood.”

“Is that what he wants? To be surprised?” Emily asks the question, but she doesn’t sound convinced. 

“If so, it makes you wonder what a god who sees all expects.” Corvo humors her.

“Violence,” Emily starts grimly, “greed.”

“He’s seen every possibility, every act of kindness, yet he expects cruelty?” He can’t exactly disagree with her words, however saddened he is to hear them come from her. 

“Don’t you?”

Corvo is silenced by that, stunned at how cynical his little girl has become. Then stunned at how easy it is to forget all she’s been through, all she’s seen. She’s been wounded beyond belief, all she can do now is build calluses. But he still can’t disagree with her. 

“I do.” Is all he can say. Emily hums in response, thoughtful. 

“He has all the power in the world, yet he isn’t cruel.” She says, and Corvo considers her words. He’s not cruel, not really. 

“Maybe gods are less tempted by greed than men.” Corvo tries. Emily doesn’t seem convinced. Her eyes are looking somewhere far away, her face taking on a steeled look before she responds. 

“I learned a lot while at the mercy of others, just like you did. I don’t know how a god would ever be at our mercy, but maybe he learned the same way we did.” She seems to come back to them once she’s done, as they both let her words hang in the air. The theory delves deeper into The Outsider than Corvo feels is his place, and it's not long until he breaks the silence.

“I don’t know that anyone knows the answer,” He begins, “but I do know that we’ve run behind schedule. You need to get dressed for the day.” Emily groans at that, rolling her eyes and flopping back into bed dramatically. “I had already let you sleep in, Emily. Our discussion got carried away. I’ll apologize to Callista for the delay, I expect you to be ready for her by the time I’m done.” 

Emily sighs in defeat, knowing there’s no argument to be made. Corvo reaches out, giving her shoulder a squeeze before he makes his way to leave. 

He closes the door behind him and thinks, with an ache through his chest and a heavy heart, that her mother would be proud of the young woman she’s become, traumatized as she is. He wonders if she’d be proud of him, as well.


	4. The Royal Seamstress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider's need for new clothes is met, with a hitch here and there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took a little longer! i ended up spending a lot of time organizing my future plans for this fic and fleshing out the world a bit more. now that things have been figured out, it shouldnt take as long ;-;

Corvo stands outside the tower's library for a moment, mentally preparing his apology to Callista, before he opens the door and enters Emily’s makeshift study room. His eyes immediately land on Callista, who's leaning over the desk sitting in the center of the room. She has books in one arm, the other shifting through the papers littering the desk. He waits for her to notice him and rakes his eyes over the room. 

The royal library was among his favorite rooms in Dunwall tower, lined from nearly floor to ceiling with books, encased by dark shelves. Some books were ancient and frayed, some were released within the past week. It was important to Jessamine for Emily to have a variety of knowledge at her disposal, and quite a variety she has. Corvo turns his thoughts back to Callista, who still has yet to notice him. He clears his throat, helping her out a little, and she pauses her paper shuffling to see who made the sound. Once she spots him, she turns back around to set her books down before turning around to face him.

“Corvo, hello.” She says, her eyes searching for Emily beside him, before landing back on him.

“I apologize, I have to take responsibility for the empress’ tardiness this morning. We got caught up in a discussion and the time slipped my mind.” Corvo says as sincerely as possible. He knows Callista is brave enough to scold him, and has every right to, but she knows when the two of them are ‘caught up in a discussion,’ it means Emily is struggling. By proxy, Corvo is too. Because of this, Callista chooses mercy. 

“We’re not too behind schedule,” she says as a means of acceptance, “You do a good job of waking her up early enough she has wiggle room.” 

“Not today, I’m afraid. I had let her sleep in.”

“Your first mistake, but I would hazard a guess she needed it.” Callista says, kindly. Needed it she did. Corvo doesn’t answer, opting instead to fish out his pocket watch and check the time. As soon as it's in his hands, Emily comes speeding through the door, looking frazzled. She stops besides Corvo and adjusts her sleeves before speaking.

"I'm sorry I'm late, miss Callista, Corvo and I were talking and I lost track of time. It won't happen again." Emily says, every bit prim and proper. Corvo feels an ounce of pride build. 

“Thank you, Emily. Now that you’ve arrived, please take your seat. Corvo, will you be staying for this lesson?” Callista asks. Emily seems to behave better with him in the room. 

“Another time,” he replies, “The tower has a guest I must tend to.” Callista nods and turns back to Emily, now seated at a desk far too big for a little girl. 

“Ready to begin?” Callista asks the empress. Emily sighs a little, catching herself in the act, before she straightens up and nods. Corvo hums his approval and takes his cue to leave, the sound of their lesson following him to the door, stopping abruptly once it clicks shut. He pauses outside the door for a moment and ponders his next move; Under normal circumstances it’d be courteous to spend time with a guest, but these aren’t normal circumstances. He has yet to spend time with The Outsider casually, and has yet to see signs the god would want to in the first place. Corvo figures it’s better to leave the guest alone for now, and save time spent together for when it’s needed. Instead, he makes for his study, planning to work on some paperwork until the seamstress arrives. 

___________________________________

No more than a half hour or so passes before a maid knocks on Corvo’s door, pulling his attention from his papers. He calls her in, and watches as her head peaks through the crack in the door. 

“The seamstress has arrived, sir.” The maid says, somewhat meekly. 

“Thank you, please let her know I’ll be just a moment.” Corvo replies, dismissing the girl. She gives a nod before closing the door, as Corvo finishes signing the paper in his hands. He takes care to put every paper securely in his drawers, locking them before he makes his way down to meet the royal seamstress. 

After a short moment of walking, he reaches the throne room, barely sparing a glance at the empty throne before his eyes land on the woman he’s looking for; Esperanza Pegueres, an older serkonan woman, petite yet not one to be pushed around. She stands her ground, not taking cheek from anyone of any size or status. Corvo respects her immensely, having worked beside her his entire time with the royal family and seeing the care she puts into her work. She’s been with the Kaldwins only a few years longer than he has. She must be nearing 70, but one would never guess by how she carried herself, the deep lines around her features the only tell of her age. 

Beside her stands her current assistant, as the woman goes through a new one every couple of months, who looks to be no older than 20. He’s a lanky lad, looking sleep deprived and strung out, a mop of messy brown hair sitting above his blood shot eyes. The poor kid has definitely been put to work, holding in his arms a multitude of garment bags and sacks, carrying everything but a small carrier bag the seamstress has slung over her shoulders. 

Corvo makes his way within speaking distance of the two, nodding first to the assistant greeting, before he addresses the seamstress.

"Mrs. Peguero, welcome- Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice." He says sincerely. Peguero tuts in response before speaking.

"I had to cancel a few tailorings," she begins. Corvo makes to apologize, until she raises a hand to stop him, "But, in all these years of working with you, I know better than to think you'd ask this of me if it wasn't urgent. The maid didn't tell me anything, I'm hoping you can fill me in." She finishes, skipping over the pleasantries and getting straight to the point. He feels a rush of appreciation for the woman.

"Please, follow me. I'll explain while we walk." He turns around, motioning for them to follow. With the two of them in stow, he begins describing the situation at hand. “A companion of mine is seeking refuge within the towers. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make it with any salvageable clothes. He needs to blend in, needs to look upper-class enough to be in company of the empress, but not wealthy enough he would be familiar with any of the rich.” 

“Hm… I brought with me some casual wear and a few dresses.” Peguero gestures to her assistant and his load, “I assume the dresses are moot, but I can scrape together something suitable from the rest. Shoes are a different story, you’ll need a cobbler for those.” 

“I truly can’t thank you enough for this, Mrs. Peguero.” Corvo says earnestly. 

“You can try.” She quips back, earning a chuckle from Corvo. 

They reach The Outsider’s room, Corvo wasting no time before rasping his knuckles across the door. It opens just a crack at first, hazel-blue eyes peeking through the gap before they see who it is. The Outsider opens the door fully, face blank, opting to stare down the new company rather than speak. A beat of silence passes before Corvo chooses to speak first, motioning towards the seamstress as he begins. 

“Esperazna Peguero, Royal Seamstress, and her assistant…” Corvo trails off, prompting the young man to introduce himself.

“James, please.” The assistant says, demure. Corvo holds a hand out to The Outsider and continues. 

“Savvel Nitzani, an old ally.” He finishes.

“Pleasure to be of acquaintance, Mrs. Peguero, Mr. James.” The Outsider says, nodding his head in greeting. 

“Likewise,” Peguero says flatly, “Now, we have measurements to take.” She gestures for The Outsider to move, and he obliges. She makes her way into the room, James trailing behind her, Corvo watching them enter before making his own ascent. 

Once inside, Peguero waves a hand towards the bed, prompting her assistant to unload everything they’ve brought. The seamstress sets her bag on the nightstand. She moves to ruffle through the garment bags as she tuts to Corvo. 

“I hadn’t expected your friend to be so slim framed. Most of what I brought won’t fit him. Most of the dresses might,” She jokes, “Up to him. To each their own.” She spends some time tossing aside dresses and coats alike, gathering what she thinks might work. Satisfied, she turns to The Outsider, pulling from her pocket measuring tape. She stands before him, nodding to his shirt. The Outsider catches the hint and pales ever so slightly, looking deeply uncomfortable at the idea. 

“I’d prefer to remain clothed, if at all possible.” He nearly pleads. Peguero raises an eyebrow, eying Corvo up and down as though he’s guilty of something. Whatever conclusion she’s come to, Corvo knows for sure he doesn’t like it. She clicks her tongue before answering.

“The measurements won’t be as accurate, but it’s possible.” She affirms.

“Thank you.” The Outsider says, placated. 

The seamstress takes that as permission to start, and start she does. She begins at his torso, lifting his arms where needed, and works her way up from there. She works in silence, focused on what her hands are doing. The Outsider twitches slightly at every touch, unexpectedly jumpy at all the contact. The first time he does it, it startles Peguero into stopping, and she pulls back to look at him. When he refuses to meet her eyes, instead staring intently at the wall, she raises her brows but goes back to work.

From then on she ignores his little starts, and soon torso, arms, and ribs have been measured. It’s not until she moves to measure his neck that problems arise. He’s still staring at his fixed point, so when her hands reach for him he’s unaware, up until he feels the tape push against his throat. Before anyone can react he’s jerked away, head whipping around as his hands come up to grab hers. By the wild look in his eyes, he’s startled himself just as much as he has everyone else in the room. 

There’s a moment where no one speaks, the Outsider’s heavy breathing the only sound, as he stares Peguero in the eyes. The other two in the room stare at him similarly. He quickly becomes conscious of the attention and untenses, dropping his hands. He clears his throat and looks away, straightening himself awkwardly. The seamstress recovers, still a little shocked, and chooses to skip measuring that particular body part. Corvo and James share a confused look, but no one broaches the elephant in the room. 

The rest of his body goes smoother. Though he still looks mortified, the Outsider no longer flinches, and Peguero works her way down instead of up. He’s more or less calmed by the time she reaches his ankles. When she’s finished, she steps away from him and balls her hands on her hips, giving him one final eyeing before she’s done. 

“Alright, here comes the hard part.” Peguero says, mostly to herself. She makes her way to the bed and begins rifling through her pile of clothes, handing them to her assistant seemingly at random. Once she’s built up a suitable stack of coats, trousers, and undergarments, she picks one outfit out of the rest. The seamstress then makes her way back to the Outsider, holding her choice out to him.

“These won’t fit perfectly, you’ll find them loose here and there, but they’re something to change into. Not that your current attire isn’t flattering,” she side eyes Corvo, “but you need something less incriminating to wear.” She says. Corvo truly doesn’t like the conclusion she’s come to. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Peguero.” Corvo says on behalf of the Outsider, who makes no move to speak for himself. She hums in response.

“It’ll be some time until I have a full wardrobe, we’re looking at a week at least. Where do you want the rest of these?” She asks, nodding towards her assistant’s armful. 

“Set them anywhere, while he changes clothes.” Corvo says. He wants the Outsider in his own clothes as soon as possible. Peguero hands the outfit off to the Outsider, who retreats into the adjoined bathroom to put them on. James scrambles to gather the discarded garment bags into his arms, as Corvo turns to address the seamstress. 

“Thank you again, Mrs. Peguero.” He says, sincere. She hums before speaking.

“I see now why it was so urgent.” She responds humorously. 

“As it stood, the clothing situation could have given some… misleading impressions.” Corvo says, addressing her implications as directly as he could without seeming defensive. 

“My professionalism has sworn me to secrecy. You don’t need to worry about what impression it left.” She says. Corvo sighs, hoping she’s gotten the right message. He looks to find James is watching them, done gathering their things. 

“I’ll see you two out.” Corvo says, politely. Peguero grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and makes her way through the door. Once again, her assistant follows behind, Corvo filing in last. He leads them down the stairs and into the throne room once more. It’s not until they reach the exit do they speak, bidding brief goodbyes. As the seamstress and her assistant make their way down the steps, Corvo is left standing there, wondering what the next step is.


	5. Goat Cheese for the Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo, Emily, and the Outsider enjoy a nice lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my username but it's still me please dont click out <33333

Corvo stays at the tower’s entrance for a moment after the seamstress is gone, enjoying the peace and gentle breeze. He checks the time, seeing it’s nearly time to fetch Emily for lunch. He pauses and thinks for a moment, trying to decipher whether he should include the Outsider for meals. Ideally she should, it’d be rather unusual to have a guest be seen not eating a single meal, but does the Outsider need to eat? Can he eat? There’s only one way to find out, he supposes. 

He heads back into the tower, up the stairs, and finds himself at the Outsider’s door once more. Faintly, he knocks on the wood, waiting only a moment before the door swings open, and Corvo gawks at the sight before him.

The Outsider, in place of his usual garb, stands there wearing a light gray trench coat, unbuttoned to reveal a black turtleneck, tucked into high waisted black slacks to match. The outfit itself isn’t anything extraordinary, but seeing the god in such casual clothes is… disarming, in a way. It was odd enough to see him in the nightshirt, the only consolation being they added to how bizarre the situation was. These clothes? They’re far more flattering, and no one would bat an eye seeing them. Corvo isn’t sure how to handle it, but he realizes he’s been staring for long enough it’s indecorous, and forces himself out of it. 

“It’s nearing lunch, if you’d like to join the empress and I?” He asks, politely.

“It’d be a pleasure.” The Outsider responds.

Corvo steps back, allowing the Outsider to step out and join him. They make their way to the study in silence, finding a hungry looking Emily standing outside the door. She lights up when she spots Corvo, and glances at the company he’s brought.

“Will you be joining us for lunch, Savvel?” Emily asks courteously.

“With your blessing, I’d very much like to.” The Outsider answers, far more charming for any possible onlookers than he is otherwise. 

“It’d be a pleasure.” She responds, nodding. She then walks forwards, taking the lead as the two men trail behind her, and the trio make their way to the dining hall. 

It’s an expansive room with high walls, and dimly lit by chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Below those chandeliers sits the dining table, a long dark slab of wood, decorated with a fine white cloth lining the center of the table. There are various centerpieces sitting atop it- fruits, quills, and various flowers littered about the surface. 

The three of them find their seats at the table, Emily at the head, with the other two on either side of her. The maids will bring out their meal once it’s fully prepared, so there’s ample downtime to make conversation. 

“How are today’s lessons?” Corvo asks the young empress. 

“They’re alright. I’m getting better at taking notes, Callista showed me a new way of organizing them.” She responds.

“That’s good, and now I presume you’re too busy taking notes to doodle?” He asks, poking fun at the girl. He already knows the answer; Emily’s drawing during class has been a persistent issue. There hasn’t been a day where at least one paper wasn’t peppered with her art. Emily, to her credit, appears bashful when she answers.

“Almost, I’m getting better at that, too. It’s just so hard to pay attention to history all day,” she says with a whine, “The books are so boring, and Callista is better at teaching science. Science is much cooler, too.” Corvo is sympathetic, truly. The poor girl is cramming in so much information nowadays it’s a wonder she has time to think. Still, she has responsibilities she can’t shrug.

Before Corvo can answer, the doors to the kitchen burst open, and in spills a few servants carrying trays of today’s lunch. They place the trays down between the three at the table. Corvo and Emily thank them as they wordlessly make their ways back to the kitchen.

The three of them take a moment to savor the sight before them- On the table are platters of various tartines, some with fruits and meats and others with veggies and cheeses. Emily reaches out first, as is customary, picking out her favorite and begins eating. Corvo follows suit, glancing at the god sitting across from him. He has yet to take a tartine, looking unsure of himself. It leads Corvo to assume the Outsider hasn’t had food in quite some time. He takes mercy on the god and helps him out, giving him some direction.

“Tartines- These ones are quite good, cream cheese and lox. Then there’s a ricotta, fig, and honey tartine- a bit sweet for lunch, but good. Roasted tomato tartine, Monte Cristos.” He explains, pointing to the trays of food.

“These ones are my favorite,” Emily hops in, “Peach and prosciutto bruschetta. The peaches taste so good with the goat cheese.” 

The Outsider nods, looking a little less daunted, reaching out to take a few of the described sandwiches to his plate. Satisfied, Corvo joins the empress in eating. He sneaks a glance at the god, watching as he carefully lifts a fig tartine to his mouth. His face lights up a little, looking pleasantly surprised by the taste. He takes a few more bites before setting it down to try another sandwich. Corvo watches him try a peach bruschetta tartine, only to watch him nearly drop the sandwich, revolted. 

Corvo coughs down a startled laugh, the Outsider doing his best to hide his disgust. He fails by a landslide, unable to unscrunch his face as he chews. Corvo almost breaks into a chuckle watching the god try to swallow his food, gagging. 

“Not a fan of goat cheese, I take it?” Corvo asks in good humor. He watches the Outsider debate the necessity of manners before replying.

“It tastes like dirt.” He says, dropping the sandwich in disgust. Corvo can’t help but chuckle watching the stone faced god having such a reaction. The Outsider stares at him, affronted. Corvo tries his best to stop chuckling and be polite. 

“I apologize, I hadn’t expected you to have such strong feelings towards the cheese.” Corvo says, trying to salvage this. Emily snorts a little, earning a glare from the god. To his credit, he sounds as dignified as ever- which only adds to the hilarity 

“I’m not well acquainted with flavors just yet. I would prefer to remain that way with this one.” The Outsider says gravely. His seriousness starts Emily giggling, causing Corvo’s mask to crack as well. The god’s head whips between the two of them, indignant, which is all it takes for the other two to break out in laughter.

They only go on for a short moment, finding their manners, and Corvo glances up at him to apologize again. Except he sees the Outsider is already looking at him, a small half-smile on his face. It’s… weird, seeing it, the same sort of discomfort he felt earlier coming back in full. He looks remarkable in how unremarkable it makes him seem. It feels like Corvo could reach out and touch him, not like he’s made of smoke, and that’s a jarring thought. 

The Outsider suddenly catches himself, wiping the smile from his face and turning back to his food. Corvo isn’t sure what just transpired, or if he imagined it altogether. Whatever it was, it’s over now, and the silence that now hangs between them is growing more awkward by the second. Emily, in attempt to clear the air, starts speaking with a mouth full of food. 

“Callista said,” she swallows her food, “she said if I finish my work early she’ll look for books on botany for me to read.”

“We should have quite a few for her to find.” Corvo replies, grateful enough for the distraction that he ignores her lapse in manners. 

“I hope so, we’ve spent too much time on history this week.” She says. 

“The purpose of an academic class is to learn academics, Emily.” he says, a smirk evident in his tone.

“I know, I know. It just tires me out.” Emily sighs. 

“You don’t have any meetings today, just a few papers to look over, then you’re free.” Corvo says, trying to give her some reprieve. Emily doesn’t look any more animated at the idea of paperwork, but he can tell it helps a little. 

They return to eating after that, and lunch goes by fairly quietly as they all focus on eating. The Outsider is the last to finish, dabbing his face clean and looking to the other two for direction. Corvo pats his thighs with his hands and leans back before he speaks. 

“Alright, then. Emily, ready to go?” He asks. Emily huffs, but nods her head. “Maybe it’ll go by fast. You’ve got those books to look forward to, remember.”

“I hope so.” She replies, cheered up slightly. She gets up from the table, heading to class in no hurry, leaving the other two alone. Corvo doesn’t let another awkward silence build, speaking up as soon as he can. They have an lie to maintain, they need to be friendly, and that involves talking.

“Care to join me for a walk? I usually survey the grounds around this time.” Corvo asks. 

“A walk sounds nice.” The Outsider responds, not sounding enthused but not sounding displeased. Corvo gets up from his seat, stretching his back a little once he’s standing. The Outsider follows suit, and together they make their way to the courtyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually love goat cheese, im allergic to cows milk so goat/sheep milks and cheeses are all i can have ;-; 
> 
> finally after 10k words we have a tiny crumb of relationship development, let me know what you guys think so far :>


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this took so long! my mental health has taken a bit of a tumble, but everything should be back to normal soon

The air outside, while refreshing, carries that heavy humidity of warm weather readying itself for the cold. It’s warm today, but soon the heat will give way to Dunwall’s hefty rain season. A bright sun hovers above the pair, peeking through sheets of clouds, shining down on the tower’s neatly kept Courtyard. 

The pair are taking their time strolling through the greenery of the yard, enjoying the fresh air and the smell of cut grass that hangs in it. Corvo takes a deep breath as he walks, reveling in the feel of sun against his skin. The Outsider trails beside him, dazed. The god almost looks like he's seeing the sun for the first time. The thought strikes something in Corvo, as he turns to address his walking partner.

"How often do you spend time outdoors?" He asks.

"A man in my position has every interest in avoiding the eyes of the outdoors." 

"Ah, I suppose that's true. Not often, then." 

"Never." The Outsider replies, as if his answer is a common one. The conversation lulls, until he speaks again. 

“It’s… nice.” He says, earnestly.

It throws Corvo off balance, how sober he sounds. He turns to look at the god beside him, almost not sure he heard correctly, but he finds the Outsider staring intently at the surrounding plants. 

“It is. There’s no real need for me to scope the premises as often as I do, not really. I trust the guards, hand picked them myself,” Corvo pauses for breath, not quite sure where he’s going with this, “Part of me is paranoid. Part of me just thinks it’s.. Nice, to feel the fresh air after being imprisoned for so long.” 

The Outsider gives a distant hum in response, eyes still fixated somewhere else. In the light of day, surrounded by the vibrant greens around him, it becomes obvious just how pale he is. It’s made even more so by the way the heat of the sun has caused a flush to creep on his cheeks. Something twinges within Corvo at the sight. He supposes it must not be too different for the god. 

He takes everything in, enjoying for just a moment the scene he’s in. The warmth of the air, the smell of the grass, freshly cut, dominating the scent of the flowers around them. A gentle breeze, here and there. Having company he trusts, to his surprise. The Outsider has never been anything but an ally, has no ties that cross nor motive for betrayal. He’s a safe fixture in Corvo’s life.

A clatter sounds across the yard, pulling the older man from his bubble. He spots the source immediately; A guard dropping his blade, now swearing incessantly as he picks it up. It’s no cause for alarm, but all the same Corvo’s disappointed he let himself be caught off guard. Leisure or not, he shouldn’t completely slack off. 

With a twitch and a shock through his hand, he uses his powers as a means to search the grounds more closely. The world fades to a familiar set of grays, his eyes searching for any wisps they’ve been trained to seek out. He finds nothing amiss; Guards in their positions, a little speck on the floor that must be a dropped coin. Amidst his search, he hears the Outsider speak from beside him.

“Even during times of leisure, you find methods to guard as best you’re capable.” He says. Corvo turns to respond to the god, surprised he knew what Corvo was doing, but as soon as he sees the god his surprise is chased out by alarm.

The Outsider isn’t the golden figure Corvo’s come to expect, instead he’s as grey as the rest of the world. That’s not what’s alarming, however. What causes Corvo’s unease is where the god’s collar has sunk down, the skin of his throat revealed and split with a gnarly gash across it. There’s blood, blacker than the void, spilling out of the cut endlessly only to disappear once it’s dripped low enough. There’s more spilling from the corners of his mouth, a small dribble from his nose. What almost makes it worse- he looks unbothered by it all. 

The Outsider, investigating the lack of response, turns to find Corvo gaping at him. His brows furrow upon seeing the alarm written on Corvo’s face. As he follows the man’s line of sight, it becomes clear the attention on his throat disturbs him. He looks away again, tugging his turtleneck as high on his neck as he can. It covers the wound, but the dark cruor smears across his skin, soaking through the cloth. 

Colour bleeds back into Corvo’s vision, washing away the blood as it comes. He blinks rapidly, trying to rationalize between the two vastly different images he’s seen. He scans the area, making sure there’s no guards within earshot, before he tries to speak.

“What was that?” He asks. When the Outsider gives no answer, he asks again, “What did I just see? That hasn’t happened before, not once.”

“I don’t know.” The god says, terse. 

“You don’t know?” Corvo doesn’t believe him, not for a second.

“I cannot see through your eyes nor pry into your mind.” Is his response. 

“You must have some idea as to what I saw.” Corvo pushes. He watches the Outsider hesitate, choosing his words carefully. 

“An idea, yes.” He says, reluctantly. When Corvo raises a brow, he resigns himself to defeat and continues, “An idea that would be better discussed elsewhere.”

“Alright, then. I’ll lead the way.” Corvo says.

He begins walking, taking them across the yard and back up the stairs and into the tower. It’s only through a lifetime of practice could he school his features into something unbothered as they pass guards and maids alike. The Outsider stays quiet behind him, his face giving much more away. 

The two reach Corvo’s study. The man unlocks the door as quickly as he can, opening it only for the Outsider to barrel past him into the room. He’s made his way to the window, staring out the glass, before Corvo even has time to close the door behind them. Door shut, he makes his way over to his desk, standing in front of it as he waits.

Neither of them speak for a long while, Corvo patiently waiting for the god to speak, the Outsider putting it off as long as he can. The silence between them lingers on, growing more and more tense until it’s been made clear the Outsider wont start on his own. Corvo clears his throat before speaking.

“This idea you have,” He starts, “Is this anomaly dangerous?”

“No, there is no threat in it.” The Outsider answers, not sparing him a glance.

“What was it, then, if not dangerous?” Corvo questions, not confident that seeing such a gruesome wound is anything but foreboding. The Outsider doesn’t respond for a time, long enough Corvo begins to wonder if he’ll address the question at all. 

“There was a wound there, millennia ago.” He finally speaks, soft enough Corvo almost misses it. Though his eyes peer through the window, they’re glazed over, trained on something only he can see. 

“That big a wound, on a god?” Corvo asks, mostly speaking to himself. 

“Not a god, not at the time.” Spoken just as softly. So many questions race through Corvo’s head. It’s only out of respect can he refrain from blurting out the first one he can. Instead he collects himself, remaining silent until the god continues.

“There was a man before there was the Outsider.” He delivers. 

“You were human?” Corvo, thrown for a loop, concludes. 

“Not me, no. But someone was.” Is the answer, breathy and distant. Through all the confusion twisting about in his mind, Corvo’s most prominent thought is only how... strange, seeing him like this. He was there during Corvo’s most vulnerable moments, cryptic and unshakeable, and while he’s no less cryptic, he’s… exposed. Staring into space- into the void, maybe- arms wrapped around himself and a far off look on his face- It feels like something Corvo was never meant to witness. It feels intrusive. 

The silent watching pulls the god from his trance, his eyes snapping up to meet Corvo’s. He searches the man’s face, and whatever he sees must strike him. In such a human display he sighs, shoulders sagging, and parts his lips. 

“I only know of him what I’ve seen from the void. I see his life, but I have no recollection of living it. The experiences that shaped him and the experiences that shaped me are not the same. He and I met only in death, when blade touched throat and the void chased out every ounce of blood.” 

Corvo remains quiet, leaning back where he sits on his desk, taking everything in. He can’t quite grasp it all, too many details missing. He tries not to wonder what fills them in, this topic clearly one he was never meant to know. He looks over to the god, who’s once again staring out the glass. His arms are half crossed now, one hand raised to rest his fingertips against his throat. He looks lost, and vulnerable. Far from the infallible specter he’s always been. 

There’s so much more to say, yet a heavy silence hangs over the two of them. Through the enigmatic wording, this is still the most honest and most bare Corvo’s ever seen the god. Something in the back of his mind pushes him to think this may be the most bare he’s been with anyone, and the silence grows thicker. This moment is intimate, and for some reason it’s suffocating. 

Abruptly, there’s a frantic knocking on the door. Both of them jump at the sound, the Outsider nearly a foot in the air. His hands rip from his neck and stand rigid by his side. He looks to the other man, who moves to call out. Before he can call to wait, however, the door swings open. In rushes Emily, arms full of books.

“Corvo, look! Callista found so many books on flowers, but I could only carry a few of them!” She yells, unaware of the tension in the room. She’s out of breath, likely having run the whole way here. Corvo can’t be upset, having an open door policy with her. She doesn’t know what she interrupted, and probably couldn’t grasp the weight of it at her age. He can only sigh and spare an apologetic glance at the god.

“I’ll leave you two be.” The Outsider says, terse. He makes for the door before he’s finished speaking.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I can show you too.” Emily says, so excited to share her books she doesn’t pick up on the Outsider’s malaise. The god stops in his tracks, looking less than enthused.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” He says, politely.

“You wouldn’t, not at all. Here, look,” She replies, darting to Corvo’s desk. He shifts out of her way, just in time for her to plop her armful of books onto the surface. She hops into the chair, needing to sit up on her knees to reach the books. “You and Corvo can fit on either side, the desk is big enough.”

“I really…” The Outsider trails off. His eyes catch Corvo’s, who gives him yet another apologetic look. He gives up on his sentence, closing his eyes for a second as he takes a breath. He then makes his way to his spot at the empress’ side, resigned to his fate. Corvo makes his way to his spot as well, looking over her head to grimace at the god. 

Emily does a little wiggle in her seat before ripping open the closest book, taking a deep breath as she points to the first picture, before beginning what will likely be an hour long rave. 

“Okay, so…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha.. i CAN include relationship development... very slowly


End file.
